Somewhere a Place for Us
by Whatsername Lambert
Summary: Forbidden love and gang wars are just two of the problems facing the teenagers living on New York City's lower West side in the late 1950s. / An adaptation of West Side Story, starring the kids and teachers of Glee. Oneshot.


**Randomly got this idea yesterday and couldn't resist. Since two of my absolute favorite things ever - West Side Story and Glee - have kind of come together recently, I thought I'd write a little adaptation of WSS starring the students and teachers of McKinley High.**

**Since it would be hard to do the whole Puerto Rican/American thing with this (the New Directions kids are so racially diverse, so I thought it would be weird to randomly turn some of them Latino) I decided to go with something else that would have been considered especially controversial in the late 1950s/early 1960s when this takes place. What about a gay couple? The story of Tony and Maria could work really well with two men or two women - nobody wants them to be together, everyone says it's wrong, but they know they're in love. So I took Kurt and Blaine and dropped them into the main roles. Yes, Klaine is my OTP but I didn't mark them as the main characters for this because sooooo many other characters have huge roles as well. If you go to my profile, there's a link where I made a list of every Glee character and their WSS counterpart. I tried to base it off of two things: their personalities and their relationships with other characters on Glee. For example, Finn (Bernardo) is Kurt (Maria)'s protective brother. Puck (A-Rab) is always on the lookout for Artie (Baby John). Some of them fit better than others. In some situations I combined two WSS characters who had similar traits to one of the Glee kids, just to make it easier.**

**I just made that sound a lot more confusing than it really is. If you really want to see which WSS characters the kids from Glee are supposed to represent, there's a link in my profile. Yeah.**

**This literally took me all day to write and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I used the 1961 movie (not the stage show) as a foundation for it. The full movie is on YouTube if you want to go watch it, it might make this easier to understand. The majority of scenes and situations are the same and I threw in some dialogue from the movie, but I tried to take some creative liberties with it as well. Hopefully it worked.**

**Trigger warnings: violence, language, character deaths and mild boy sex but nothing too explicit. Happy reading. **

SOMEWHERE A PLACE FOR US

Mike Chang lived for days like today.

He was pacing the streets with his Jets, walking tall without a care in the world, letting every passerby know that this was _their _turf. It was a sunny afternoon on the lower west side of Manhattan, the Jets were on top, and everything seemed to be right in the world. Mike wanted to smile, but he forced his face to remain expressionless as they walked along. Comedy would have killed him.

Looking even meaner than Mike and flanking his right-hand side was Noah Puckerman, but calling him anything other than "Puck" would get you a nice, tasty knuckle sandwich. He was arguably the toughest member of the Jets, but that's probably just because he was the quickest to anger. And with that being said, it was surprising to consider how cool he'd been when Artie Abrams came along. Artie was, by Jets standards, kind of a wimp when he first started out - he was younger than the rest of the members, and he walked with a limp which made him appear especially vulnerable, but Puck had taken him under his wing and shown him the ways of the streets. Now he was just as tough as the rest of them.

The rest of the gang followed like a pack behind these three in the front. Mike knew that even though things seemed to be going smoothly, he still had to keep an eye out for-

-that _sonofabitch_. There he was, in all his tall and muscled glory. Finn Hudson, the leader of those goddamn Sharks, crossed their path and stood defiantly facing the Jets, who had all come to a stop.

Mike stared right into Finn's steely gaze for a second. Finn raised one eyebrow, silently daring him. Mike finally spoke.

"Get out of here."

Finn stared at Mike for just a second longer, then turned and headed down a side alley. Mike knew he was probably off to find even more of his Sharks, but the Jets could handle that. They kept walking.

Sure enough, they'd walked about two more blocks before Finn showed up again. This time he was accompanied by the three other most powerful Sharks, who always seemed to follow Finn around like a pathetic lost puppy: Sam, Rory and Sebastian. Mike smirked to himself - his Jets could easily take on all four of these guys if it came to a brawl. They'd fight, and then the Jets would pick themselves up, brush the dirt off their clothes and continue their reign of the west side.

But all of a sudden the Sharks were closing in around them. And Finn Hudson was standing right there staring at Mike with that stupid little smirk on his face.

For a second, everything was still. The world seemed to stop turning, and the only movement came from a slight warm breeze that blew through.

Once again, Mike was the one to break the silence. "This'll _never _be your turf."

"Oh yeah?" Finn sneered. "We'll see about that."

And then came the inevitable brawl. It was a total free-for-all as Jets pummeled Sharks and Sharks tore into Jets. Puck made sure to keep his eye out for Artie - his crippled friend had toughened up quite a bit in the time he'd spent with the gang, but Puck still worried about him. Thankfully, though, he didn't have to be concerned for very long. Just moments after the massive fight had broken out, it was interrupted by the sound of a police whistle.

The boys all froze in place when they heard the initial interruption, but then came a voice they were all too familiar with.

"All right, knock it off! Settle down!"

Officer Sue Sylvester, the only female cop in the city, strolled towards them, lazily twirling her police club. The air was filled with heavy silence before she spoke again.

"Now look, I've said it before and I'll say it again. I don't give a damn if you boys kill each other. Just don't do it on my beat."

Mike let go of the Shark he'd been attacking and straightened up. "Top of the morning, Officer Sylvester."

She seemed to understand that he was mocking her. "Get your trash out of here. This neighborhood is scum because of you kids." Her voice was grave.

Finn, trying to be the bigger man and do the right thing, snapped his fingers. "Let's roll, Sharks."

Sylvester stared at Mike and the remaining Jets as the Sharks left the scene. "You boys'd better clean up your act or else there'll be hell to pay, got it?"

"Uh...yes." Artie spoke for the group.

"I can't hear you!" Sylvester barked.

"Yes ma'am!" Artie corrected himself hastily.

She kept a wary eye on them for a second longer before strolling away. When she was out of earshot, Puck spoke up.

"I'm so sick and tired of her thinking we gotta respect her just cause she's a chick. I don't respect cops, period. People just gotta learn to respect _us_. Respect the fact that these are _our _streets." His face turned redder and redder with rage the longer he spoke.

"Yeah, who does she think she is?" one of the other guys chimed in. "She can't tell us what to do."

Mike was about to speak up, but suddenly the whole crowd of Jets was jostled as someone pushed through. He rolled his eyes when he saw Rachel Berry pushing her way to the front of the group.

"Did you see me?" she gasped breathlessly to Mike once she was standing beside him. "I was _so _damn good just then in that fight. I was a knockout."

"Wish somebody would have knocked _you _out," said a caustic voice from within the group.

"Hey!" Rachel turned angrily, hands already curled into fists, ready to attack whoever had just heckled her. Before she could, though, Mike grabbed her by the shoulders from behind and shoved her out of the way.

"Get outta here, Berry. We've told you before...we don't want you around."

Rachel glared at him for a second longer, spit, then took off running. Mike rolled his eyes again. Rachel had been trying to get into the gang for quite some time now. Why she wanted to be a Jet so badly, Mike had no idea, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let her. It wasn't so much the fact that she was a girl - more of the fact that she constantly and annoyingly felt the need to prove herself to them. Mike suspected that her reason for wanting to join had nothing to do with the actual fighting and everything to do with one Blaine Anderson, but that didn't make sense. Blaine didn't even hang around with the Jets too much anymore...

"Now listen up," he said once Rachel was out of the way. "We fought for these streets, and they belong to _us _now. I'll be damned if we let those Sharks take them from us. But with the way Hudson's such a suck-up to Sylvester, the cops'll be on their side no matter what. The only way to settle this once and for all...," he smiled and hesitated, "is with a good old-fashioned fight."

Puck's eyes lit up. "A rumble?"

Mike nodded. "A rumble. But first we gotta hold a war council with them to decide the specifics. Y'know...weapons, location, stuff like that. I'll make the challenge to Finn."

Artie shook his head. "If anyone should make the challenge, it should be Blaine."

"_Blaine_." Mike scoffed his best friend's name. "He don't want anything to do with us no more. He hasn't had anything to do with us for over a month ever since he got that job down at the drugstore."

"But he _did _help start the Jets," Artie pointed out. "And we wouldn't have won this turf without him."

Mike blinked as he considered this.

"You're right." Suddenly he became almost infuriated. "Look, Blaine's my best friend, but he can't just walk away from us like this. He's gotta learn that he helped us win full power over the streets, now he's gotta help us protect it. When you're a Jet...you're a Jet for life."

He reached into his pocket for a cigarette, lit it, and continued addressing the group. "I know Blaine. Dude's like my brother. I'll convince him to come back and help us fight those damn Sharks. Then we'll talk to Hudson tonight at the dance, down at the community center. It's neutral territory, so we should be able to plan it all out there without too much trouble."

"Then we'll _finally _have Anderson back to help us kick their asses." Puck cracked his knuckles.

"That's the point." Mike turned to leave. "I'm gonna go talk to him. Meet us at the dance at ten."

…

"I really appreciate the offer, Mike, but I can't. I told you, I'm done with that."

Blaine Anderson smiled wryly at his best friend as he picked up another crate of glass bottles and carried them down the outdoor steps, placing them at the cellar door of Schuester's Drugstore. He'd been going through this with Mike for about five minutes, but his best friend refused to let up.

"Aw, c'mon, Blaine. We could really use your help. Do it for me. Womb to tomb?"

He extended his hand, which was curled into a fist. Blaine smiled as he fist-bumped Mike with his own hand.

"Birth to earth." He finished his part of the catchphrase they'd come up with to represent the fact that they were practically brothers. "I can't, Mike. I just can't."

Mike threw up his hands in disappointment. "I've known you for four and a half years, and I think I've got you figured out, then you change like this. Buddy boy, I am a victim of disappointment in you."

"I'm not coming back," Blaine asserted. "I want to get my life turned around. That's the whole point of me coming to work here." He gestured to the faded paint on the side of the crumbling brick building that read _Schuester's Drugstore_. "Besides, I've got a really good feeling about life at the moment, and I don't want to do anything to jinx it."

Mike narrowed his eyes. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Blaine shrugged. "I honestly can't put my finger on it," he admitted. "It's just...I know something's about to happen. I've just got this great feeling. Kinda like the kick I used to get from being a Jet." He smiled breathlessly.

"Then you can bring that kick back and still keep your optimism," Mike encouraged. "We need you to help us take care of them Sharks. C'mon, Blaine. At least come to the dance tonight to help me negotiate with Finn."

Blaine leaned against the side of the building and raked one hand through his dark hair, pulling it from its perfectly gelled coif into its natural curls. "Mike, I don't know..."

"I already told the guys you'd be there," Mike commented nonchalantly.

Blaine realized he didn't have much of a choice anymore. "What time?"

"Ten o'clock?" Mike's face lit up with a hopeful smile.

"Ten it is," Blaine confirmed. "And I'll live to regret this."

"No, you won't!" Mike called over his shoulder as he ran off to tell the rest of the guys that Blaine was in. All of a sudden he stopped at the end of the alleyway and turned to acknowledge Blaine again. "And who knows? That good feeling you got...it might come into play tonight at the dance."

Blaine marinated on this for a second. His friend had a point. There very well could be something waiting for him tonight at the dance. Or - and he had not the faintest clue about this yet - some_one_.

He knew there was a good chance he wouldn't be dancing with anybody. Blaine was...well, to put it simply, he wasn't attracted to girls. Never had been, never would be. All he knew was that sometimes he'd see a boy that caught his eye, and his heart would start racing and his breath would get short, like what happened to his friends when they saw the girls they had crushes on. 

Blaine couldn't tell anybody, though. No way in hell. The Jets would have his head. Still, though, he figured he could still go to the dance tonight and just hang out, not dance with any girls - and he sure as hell wouldn't dance with any boys, no matter how much he wanted to. Besides, the only reason he was going was to help Mike, anyway. Not to socialize.

Still, though. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was due for something amazing.

He pushed himself off the wall and smiled to himself. Suddenly he was looking forward to the dance.

_What do I have to lose_?

…

Kurt Hummel passed the sleeve of the jacket he was mending under the sewing machine needle and sighed. His stepbrother could never seem to keep his clothes nice for very long, and then it became the responsibility of Kurt, who worked at the only tailor's shop on the lower west side, to fix everything. He let his mind wander for a second without really focusing on his work - Kurt had been doing this for so long that he didn't even really need to concentrate anymore. Maybe if Finn stopped getting into fights all the time with that other gang - the Jets? - then he might actually be able to keep his clothes nice without constantly bringing them to Kurt to get fixed.

"Kurt!" Santana, one of the seamstresses, hurried over to him, her arms overflowing with a frilly purple dress. She shoved it into his arms with false innocence in her dark eyes. "When you're done with that, would you mind lowering the neckline on this one _just _a tad?"

Kurt held up the dress and inspected the already plunging neckline. "No, Santana. If this gets any lower, there will be absolutely _nothing _left to the imagination."

"Oh, come on," Santana begged. "It seems so...quaint. I need a dress that is fit for _dancing_. Not one that makes it look like I should be praying on my knees."

"If you wear this in front of my brother, you'll start off dancing and end up kneeling," Kurt muttered under his breath. Santana was his best friend, but she had also been dating Finn for quite some time now. Kurt honestly didn't see the attraction - he figured they were both in it for the sex, but what did he know. It's not like he'd ever been in a relationship before - but then again, no girl had ever really caught his eye before. There had been _boys_, however...

Santana pulled the dress out of his hands and held it protectively against her. "I never said I was trying to impress your brother," she said defensively. "In all honesty, he's been seriously lacking in the sex department lately...I don't think he'd be able to get it up if his life depen-"

"Santana!" Kurt shouted, sufficiently grossed out. "This is _way _more than I need to know about my brother's sexual escapades with you, thanks."

She looked at him for a second, then took it over to the large mirror that hung on the opposite wall. She held it up to her body and twirled around.

"I'm just saying that maybe I want to impress someone else," she remarked casually.

Kurt raised one eyebrow and looked up from the sewing machine. "Someone else...?"

As if on cue, Brittany Pierce flitted into the room in a fit of giggles. She raced over to Santana and enveloped her in a hug.

"Tana! I'm so excited, only one more hour!" Brittany giggled, jumping up and down as she hugged Santana. Kurt didn't hear what Santana said in response, but all of a sudden it was clear to him. He didn't think there was anything wrong with Santana wanting to impress Brittany, even though she was another girl. After all, the two of them and Quinn Fabray, the other seamstress who worked here, were the only three people who knew Kurt's secret - that he was attracted to other boys (well, Sebastian had somehow figured it out, too, but that was another story. At least he hadn't told anyone). The girls who worked here with like sisters to him. He trusted them completely and when he'd told them his secret, they had responded with acceptance and continued friendship.

Still, though, now it was obvious to him that Santana's relationship with his brother was all a big sham - and so was Brittany's with that Rory guy. Society would never accept two women in a relationship - or two men, for that matter. Kurt had long ago forced himself to accept the fact that he would never find love and die a lonely bachelor.

He glanced up at the two girls again. Santana was whispering something in Brittany's ear, and Brittany was blushing and giggling yet again. They immediately pulled away from each other when the doorknob turned and in stepped Finn, Rory and Sebastian.

"Kurt, you got that jacket all fixed up for me?" Finn demanded as he greeted Santana with a kiss.

"Right here," Kurt mumbled, turning off the sewing machine and pulling the finished jacket out from under the needle. "It's all done."

He tossed the garment to Finn, who caught it one handed and slipped it on over his dress shirt without so much as a _thank you_.

"Kurt, aren't you coming?" Sebastian asked. He'd always been the only one who hadn't pressured Kurt to join the gang. Kurt had let them all know long ago that he had no interest in getting into silly little scuffles over a few blocks of crummy street. Sebastian, though, had been the only one to respect that.

He was also the only one who had ever smiled at Kurt the way he was smiling at him now, almost expectantly. Almost like he was _hoping _Kurt would say yes.

Kurt shook his head. "No," he murmured. "There won't be anyone there for me, anyway."

Rory laughed and slung an arm around Brittany. "Oh, you just don't want to go because you think we're gonna get into it with them Jets. Don't worry about it. It'll be fun."

"No, it won't," Kurt said halfheartedly. "Mike and those guys are going to be there, I know it. There's no way you guys can be in the same place as them without something happening."

Finn grabbed a suit jacket off of the rack by the door and tossed it to Kurt. "C'mon, bro. Are you going to sit here and sew all night, or are you going to live a little?"

That struck a chord within Kurt. He made sure not to show it on his face - otherwise that would be telling Finn loud and clear that he'd won. He hid his smile as he slipped into the jacket and straightened the bow tie he was already wearing. His mind was made up.

…

Emma Pillsbury, bless her heart, could never seem to get things to go as smoothly as she wished.

The main reason she hosted these dances down at the local community center was because of those stupid gangs. She thought this would be a fun way for all the kids to come together, put aside their differences, and just dance. Now, though, there was an invisible but distinct line dividing the gymnasium. On one side were Jets; on the other, Sharks.

They didn't even try to look like they were having fun. Their faces remained stoic even as they jitterbugged away. They looked like someone was forcing them to be here.

She glanced around the gym. Her eyes landed on Blaine Anderson, one of the few gang members who didn't intimidate her - probably because he barely counted as a gang member anymore. He was having what appeared to be an intense conversation with the tall Asian - Mike? - then they both nodded and did something nobody on either side had dared to do all night. They stepped across the invisible line and approached the tall, beefy boy who Emma knew as the leader of the Sharks.

Nothing about this was good. Emma had a terrible feeling about whatever the three boys were talking about, so she decided to create a diversion. She scurried to the microphone at the front of the room and tapped it with her index finger to make sure it worked.

Loud feedback echoed throughout the room. The music stopped and the dance attendees put their hands over their ears, wincing. Emma attempted to smile as she began to address them.

"Attention, please!" By now, mostly everyone was looking in her general direction. She continued. "Thank you. First of all, I just want to thank everyone for being here. It looks like we're all having a great time!"

She paused and was met with blank, silent stares. Someone coughed.

"But I can't help but notice that we don't seem to be branching out too much. So right now, we're going to have a getting-to-know-you dance, so you can all meet new friends!"

This proposition was met with a mumble of resentment. Emma tried not to let this bother her.

"I want you all to form two circles. Boys on the outside, girls on the inside. When the music starts, each circle will move in the opposite direction. When the music stops, dance with whichever boy or girl you're across from. Okay?"

She had tried to sound cheerful, she really did. It must have worked, because after a few seconds the kids reluctantly started forming two circles.

The music began and the circles started to move. Emma smiled to herself as she watched. For the most part, a lot of people had started to enjoy themselves.

Only two people hadn't joined one of the circles. One was Blaine Anderson, who was standing against the wall near the back of the gym. The other was another boy, who looked out of place just being here. Neither of them seemed to have any interest in getting to know new people. Emma sighed and turned away; she guessed she couldn't get through to everyone.

What she didn't see after she turned her back was Blaine and the other boy meeting each others' eyes, then slowly beginning to make their way across the gymnasium towards each other.

…

Blaine wasn't sure how it had happened. One minute he'd been standing against the wall, because in all honesty he had not come here to seek out a girlfriend. The next minute he found himself being drawn across the room like a magnet to the boy on the other side, the only other person who had chosen not to participate in the circle dance.

They stopped right in front of each other and their eyes locked. Blaine couldn't help but be absolutely captivated by this boy's eyes. Not only were they the most beautiful green-blue-gold-gray-turquoise color Blaine had ever seen, but they spoke the words the other boy didn't even have to say. Just from looking into his eyes, Blaine knew why the other boy had passed on the circle dance - because he didn't want to dance with girls. Because he was like Blaine.

The other boy spoke first. His voice was soft and buoyant, high pitched, unlike anything Blaine had ever heard before.

"You're not thinking I am someone else?"

Blaine shook his head. There was nobody on earth who could be mistaken for such a beautiful human being. "I know you are not."

The other boy answered him with another question. His stare never wavered from Blaine's. "Or that we've met before?"

Blaine's voice was weak with overwhelming emotion. "I know we have not." 

"Are you...?" The other boy didn't finish his sentence, but Blaine knew exactly what was coming next.

"I am." He nodded.

Suddenly he was overcome with the urge to be alone with this boy. And not here, even though everyone else was dancing and paying them no mind - it wasn't safe for them in here. They had to go somewhere else.

"Come with me." He was almost tempted to take the other boy's hand, but forced himself not to. They made their way to the doors that led outside.

Once they were alone in the warm summer night, the other boy leaned up against the side of the building. Blaine couldn't help it; he stepped closer to him.

"Am I dreaming?" So far, the other boy had spoken nothing but questions. He drew in a sharp breath as Blaine carefully reached out to touch his face. The skin was unbelievably smooth and soft; Blaine choked on a breath of his own.

"If you are dreaming, then so am I," he murmured, allowing himself to smile.

The other boy placed his hand on his own face, right over Blaine's. He closed his eyes.

After a moment, he brought Blaine's hand down to his lips and kissed it tenderly. Blaine trembled when his skin came in contact with the boy's lips for the first time. His head was still spinning when the other boy leaned closer to him, framed Blaine's face between his hands, and gently kissed his lips.

Blaine had never, ever before in his life kissed another boy. He'd kissed girls when he was younger, but that was back when he'd been trying to figure out who he was and what he wanted. _This_, though. _This _was what he wanted. He felt like he was about to melt as the other boy's soft lips moved pliantly with his own.

They pulled away and shared a lingering smile before Blaine decided he wanted more. He leaned in and claimed another kiss. The other boy's arms reached out to wind around his waist, pulling Blaine closer, and that's when he knew. Blaine knew it was silly, he didn't even know the boy's name yet, but he was in love.

From inside the gymnasium, he heard the muffled sounds of a new song beginning to play. The circle dance must have ended. Blaine gently broke the kiss and shared the other boy's beautifully breathless smile for a few seconds.

The other boy cleared his throat. "We should...go back in," he stammered. "My brother's supposed to be keeping an eye on me, and..."

"Good idea," Blaine said hastily. He took the other boy's hand just for a moment as he opened the door, then immediately let go once they were inside.

They made their way back to the center of the gym, where most of the people were dancing. Neither of them said a word. Blaine supposed he should stop and ask for the boy's name, maybe find out another time when they could secretly see each other. He _had _to see this boy again. His heart was already aching from not being able to touch him.

Suddenly there was a pair of rough hands gripping Blaine's shoulders from behind. He turned around in horror and his eyes went wide when he saw Finn Hudson glaring down at him.

"Stay away from my brother."

Suddenly the room started to spin, or maybe it was just Blaine's mind. "B-brother?"

"Yeah, what's it to ya?" Finn spat out angrily, then turned to the other boy, who looked terrified. "Can't you see he's one of _them_?"

"I-I didn't know...," the other boy said nervously. "W-we were just t-talking..."

Finn gestured around the room. "Out of all the people here to talk to, you pick this Jet scum?" He motioned for one of the other Sharks who was standing nearby, Sebastian, who quickly hurried over to them. Finn shoved the other boy towards Sebastian.

"Take Kurt home. He shouldn't be here."

Sebastian slung one arm lazily over the other boy's shoulders and began leading him away. Blaine started walking away as well, in the opposite direction, in a complete trance. He wasn't aware that at that moment, Mike had intercepted Finn and the two were making plans to meet at Schuester's Drugstore later that night to discuss a possible rumble between the two gangs.

Blaine headed out the same doors through which he and Kurt had stepped out of the building just a few moments before. _Kurt_. The name alone was like music to Blaine's ears. He finally had a name to put with the beautiful eyes, smooth skin, soft lips.

He walked mindlessly to the block of tenements where he knew Finn Hudson lived. If they really were brothers, then this would be the same building to which Sebastian had taken Kurt after they'd left the dance. Blaine wandered down the back alley to the side of the building, where several of the windows were open. He was debating whether or not to call out, when suddenly he saw him.

Kurt had appeared at the window that opened onto the fire escape, still dressed in the clothes he'd worn at the dance. This made up Blaine's mind for him. He called out to him, trying to be quiet while at the same time trying to make sure Kurt could hear.

"Kurt!"

He saw Kurt move his head to look down, trying to figure out who had called his name. Blaine was pleasantly surprised to see the way Kurt's face lit up when he saw him.

Kurt pushed open the window and stepped out onto the fire escape. Blaine climbed the rickety metal stairs towards him. Once they were together again, he took Kurt in his arms.

"We have to be quiet," Kurt whispered after a moment. "Finn-"

"He's at the dance," Blaine murmured to reassure him.

"He's going to bring Santana home soon," Kurt countered quietly, but he tightened his arms around Blaine's waist all the same.

Blaine pulled back from the embrace to look into Kurt's beautiful eyes. "I'm not one of them," he promised.

"Yes, you are." Blaine's heart broke was about to break, but Kurt's gentle smile stopped it. "But not to me."

He placed his hand gently on Blaine's cheek. Blaine leaned into his touch and closed his eyes.

"How is it that I feel all these things for you, and I do not even know your name?" Kurt mused, giggling to himself a little bit.

"Blaine Anderson," he introduced himself with a smile. "Pleased to make your acquaintance...even though, I have to admit, I'd rather be kissing you again."

Kurt smiled that absolutely beautiful smile of his and pressed his lips against Blaine's. He let his lips linger there for a second before he pulled away with another gorgeous smile.

"Blaine," he said, his voice like a caress. Blaine had never loved the sound of his own name so much. "I look at you, and I see only an amazing boy. Not one of _them_."

Blaine returned Kurt's smile. "Y'know, all day I felt like something amazing was going to happen. Some miracle." He paused and placed one hand over Kurt's heart, feeling it beat into his palm. "And now I know I was right."

He leaned in and kissed Kurt again before the other boy had a chance to respond. They stayed like that for what felt like a perfect eternity, but of course it was all too short before they heard a sudden voice calling from within the apartment building.

"Kurt!"

At the sound of his name, Kurt broke the kiss with an apologetic smile. "My father," he explained. "I have to go."

"Wait!" Blaine reached out for his hand as he started towards the open window. "When will I see you again?"

Kurt leaned closer to him. "I work at the tailor's shop across the street. We close at six, so come then. Use the back door."

"Okay." He nodded, then leaned in and gave Kurt one more kiss. "Goodnight."

He turned to leave, and was about halfway down the fire escape when he heard that angelic voice calling after him.

"Blaine, wait!"

He turned around on the landing and looked up. Kurt was leaning up against the railing of the fire escape, smiling at him.

"I love you," he said softly.

Blaine's heart was sufficiently melted by this point. He reached up with one hand through the bars. Kurt knelt down and took his hand gently in both of his own.

"I love you, Kurt," he whispered, looking straight into the other boy's eyes.

Kurt smiled tenderly. "See you tomorrow?"

"At six," Blaine promised him. He wished he could stay out here forever with Kurt, but he knew that was impossible. After a long time, he finally forced himself to pull his hand away from Kurt's and leave.

…

Puck lazily flung a dart towards the ancient dartboard on the back wall of the drugstore. It landed just left of the bullseye, but he paid no mind. "Where the hell are the damn Sharks?"

Mike shrugged and propped his feet up on a table. "Who knows? I don't even know if Blaine's coming. Last I saw, he was talking to that Kurt kid."

Rachel Berry, who had tagged along as she usually did, spoke up. "Finn's brother? What's he talking to him for?"

Puck shrugged and flung another dart. "Who knows? I don't think it's that big of a deal, though. Kurt's not in the gang."

"Yeah, but he's still one of _them_," Rachel observed.

Will Schuester, the owner of the drugstore who had been wiping off the counter, glanced at the dusty old clock above the soda fountain. "Kids, it's after midnight. This better not take long, I want to lock up and get going."

"We're having a war council with the Sharks," Artie informed him. "To decide on weapons for a rumble."

Schuester sighed and shoved the rag he'd been using into the front pocket of his apron. "Another rumble. Why can't you guys just play basketball or something? Why do you have to hurt each other?"

"War is war," Artie said simply.

The bell above the door jingled and everyone in the room turned expectantly, thinking Finn and the Sharks had finally arrived. All hopeful smiles except for Mike's faded when they realized it was only Tina Cohen-Chang.

"They're still not here?" she asked, crossing the room and settling herself down into Mike's lap.

Mercedes Jones, Tina's best friend, had been here since the beginning with the rest of the guys and Rachel. "They're still not here," she repeated in response, looking bored.

"When they _do _get here, I want you chicks to get out of here," Mike said. "That means you too, Rachel. It's safer for all of you."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "What will it finally take before you guys-"

The bell above the door jingled again. This time, Finn and the rest of his gang entered the drugstore. Mike sent a knowing look around to all the girls, including his own girlfriend. Tina sighed and stood up from his lap, then left the drugstore. Mercedes followed her, then finally Rachel.

"All right, boys," Mike said under his breath as the Sharks began to sit down in the empty seats. "Play it cool." He glanced up towards Will Schuester, who was still cleaning up behind the counter. "You might want to get outta here, Schue. I don't want you getting in trouble if Sylvester shows up."

"I have no part of this," Schuester said defensively, but opened the cellar door and headed downstairs for the moment all the same.

When the drugstore owner was out of the way, Mike turned to Finn with a look that let the other gang leader know he meant business.

"As you know, we're all here tonight because we're challenging you to a rumble. Do you accept?"

Finn nodded. "We accept."

"Time and place?" Mike asked in response.

"Tomorrow night. Under the highway," Finn said without consulting any other Sharks.

They shook hands. Mike spoke again.

"Weapons?"

Finn didn't respond, because a barrage of suggestions began pouring forward from both gangs - sticks! rocks! poles! cans! bricks! bats! clubs! - before Artie of all people finally called out, "What are we, chicken? Bottles! Knives! Guns!"

Mike looked at Finn to see what he thought of this. He nodded.

"All right," Finn said. "I want a fair fight. Our best guy fights your best guy, and we get to pick him."

Mike shrugged. "Sounds fair to me."

They shook hands once again. Little did they know, they were sealing their fate.

…

Quinn Fabray could tell there was something different about Kurt Hummel the next day at work. In all the years she'd known him, she'd never seen him smile quite so brightly. Not only that, but he went around the tailor's shop as if he were walking on air.

"Everything all right, Kurt?" she asked when she caught him staring off into space as he hemmed a pair of trousers.

He smiled dreamily. "I'm in love."

Santana, who had been whispering in the corner with Brittany, immediately turned and smiled at him. "Who's the guy?"

"Spill," Brittany encouraged. "I want to know _everything_." She giggled and Santana pulled her into a hug.

"Oh, you wouldn't know him," he said, then glanced at the clock. "Oh! It's almost six. You girls get going, I'll lock up here."

Quinn and Brittany gathered up their things and left, but Santana stayed behind. "Come on, Kurt. You won't even tell your almost-sister-in-law?" She fluttered her eyelashes.

"If you and Finn really wanted to get married, it would have happened a long time ago," Kurt said, turning off the sewing machine and folding up the pants he'd just finished hemming. He placed them down and pushed her gently towards the door. "I'm not in any hurry. You go and try to talk the boys out of that silly rumble they're having tonight."

Santana rolled her eyes. "You know it won't work, they never listen to-"

There was the sudden sound of a door closing, and both of them froze. They turned towards the back door to see no other than Blaine Anderson looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

Santana turned to Kurt with a teasing grin. "'You girls get going, I'll lock up,'" she teased in a bad impression of Kurt's distinctive voice. She turned to Blaine and smiled politely. "Good evening."

Kurt, knowing he was caught, scrambled for an explanation. "He...uh, he came to deliver aspirin. From Schuester's Drugstore. Where he works."

Santana just stared at them both. Kurt knew she didn't buy it for a second.

"You won't tell?" he requested softly.

Santana sighed. "I won't tell as long as you're home in fifteen minutes. Finn's going to be wondering where you are, you know that. I can't cover for you that long."

She turned on her heel and headed out the door. Once the back door had closed behind her, Kurt turned to Blaine and took both of his hands.

He still couldn't believe it. Last night, he'd done something that was completely unlike him - he'd taken a chance, and he'd fallen in love. He squeezed Blaine's hands happily, just content to have him here.

"She likes us," he said quietly with a soft smile.

Blaine nodded in agreement. "She does." He let go of Kurt's hands to pull him into an embrace. "She can tell there's something magical between us, and at least she's a good enough person to respect that."

Kurt closed his eyes and sighed. "I hope so," he whispered. "Are you going to the rumble?"

Blaine shook his head. "No."

Kurt pulled away and looked him in the eyes. "Not even to go stop it?"

Blaine sighed dejectedly. "I can't. There's no way. It's me against all of them. They want to fight, I don't. Do you think they're going to listen to me?"

Kurt felt his stomach sink. He was _so _sick of this. So sick and tired of the fighting, the violence. He buried his face in Blaine's neck.

"You have to try," he whispered. "You're the only one who has any chance of stopping it. Please. For me."

There was no way Blaine could refuse that. Absolutely no way. He gently cupped Kurt's chin in his hand and tilted the other boy's face up.

"I'll go," he said quietly. "I'll do my best."

Kurt's expression brightened completely. He gave him a pleasantly surprised smile before pulling him into another hug.

"Thank you," he said softly. "You _do _have magic."

"Of course I do." Blaine kissed the top of his head. "I have you."

They held each other for a silent moment longer before Blaine spoke again.

"You go home and wait for me," he commanded gently. "I'll come for you after I'm done."

Kurt nodded. "Okay," he whispered.

Blaine couldn't help but look curiously around the shop, even as he held Kurt close to him. "This is a pretty fancy place," he observed. "All the mannequins look like they're dressed up for a wedding."

Kurt giggled and slipped away from Blaine's embrace. "They do, don't they?" He smiled and stepped towards one mannequin that was dressed in a gorgeous pink gown. "She can be the maid of honor."

Blaine adjusted the tuxedo jacket of a nearby male mannequin. "Best man."

Kurt laughed and gave Blaine his gorgeous smile yet again. "And the rest of the wedding party." He gestured around to the various other mannequins dressed in formal wear, then frowned. "Who's getting married, though?"

Blaine grinned and pulled a folded-up tuxedo jacket off of the sewing table. He helped Kurt put it on, eliciting more giggles.

"How do I look?" Kurt asked, turning so Blaine could admire him.

"Absolutely stunning," Blaine told him honestly.

Kurt twirled towards the mirror and admired himself. "I love the way this fits me," he observed. "Who am I marrying, though?"

Without saying a word, Blaine stepped forward and took his hands.

They looked at each other for a long time. They both knew this would never be able to happen - two men marrying each other was unheard of; the world would never accept it. But here, alone in the tailor's shop, their own magical little world...anything could happen. Kurt could pretend he was actually marrying the boy he loved.

Without thinking, he began to speak the traditional vows. "I, Kurt, take thee Blaine."

Blaine spoke his own line without letting his gaze waver from Kurt's. "I, Blaine, take thee Kurt."

Kurt, happy to see Blaine playing along, spoke the next line. "For richer, for poorer."

The way Blaine was looking at Kurt made him feel like he was about to dissolve, but he forced himself to hold onto his hands as the darker-haired boy continued. "In sickness and in health."

"To love and to honor." Kurt forced himself to blink away tears.

"To hold and to keep," Blaine declared.

When Kurt spoke again, his voice was soft and broken. "From each sun to each moon."

Blaine continued the vows, but his voice seemed weak with emotion as well. "From tomorrow to tomorrow."

"From now to forever," Kurt whispered.

Blaine's voice was barely audible. "Til death do us part."

Kurt, completely caught up in the moment, slid an imaginary ring onto Blaine's finger. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Blaine did the same to Kurt and repeated his words. "With this ring, I thee wed."

They held their gaze for a second, then smiled ruefully at each other. Anyone else would say that perhaps their little game had gone a bit too far, but neither boy cared. This imaginary wedding was the closest they'd ever get to the real thing.

Kurt kept his eyes locked with Blaine's. They were one hand, one heart, one soul. A whisper in his mind spoke the words he didn't dare say out loud.

_Even death won't part us now_.

They both leaned in, and it was hard to say who kissed who first. All they knew was that in one beautiful moment, their lips collided into a kiss.

…

Late that night, various members of both gangs emerged from the shadows. They clambered over the fence that closed off a dead end under the freeway overpass. When all members were present, the two groups lined up facing each other.

Finn ripped off his jacket and handed it to Sebastian. "Ready?"

Puck, who would be fighting for the Jets, nodded. "Ready."

The two stepped forward and shook hands, then took a step back and glared at each other, each daring the other to make the first move. Encouragements were called out from both sides as they tentatively stepped closer to each other, but neither had managed to make a move when there was a sudden interruption.

"Hold up!" It was Blaine, who was scrambling over the fence. He landed on the ground and paced over to where Puck and Finn were about to start brawling.

"Blaine!" Mike said cheerfully. "Nice of you to come and join us."

"I'm not here to join you," Blaine said, panting for breath. "I'm here to put an end to this, once and for all."

"Blaine," Mike said again, more sternly this time. "If you're not here to fight, you can go the hell away."

"Y'know what?" Finn chimed in. "For once, I agree with this bastard." He gave Blaine a shove that was forceful enough to make the other boy end up sprawled on his back on the ground.

Blaine looked up helplessly to Mike, who made no effort to help his friend.

"The deal was a fair fight between him and Puck," the Jets leader said solemnly. "Get with the gang, Blaine, or go home."

Finn laughed as Blaine pulled himself to his feet. "I think he's just chicken."

Puck, who hadn't said a word this whole time, was suddenly bloodthirsty and infuriated. He lunged for Finn, the rest of the gang members cleared out of the way, and the rumble was on.

Finn managed to slip out of Puck's grasp and reached into his back pocket. He extracted a knife, the blade shining in the minimal moonlight.

Puck scoffed. "Two can play like that." He reached into his pocket and brought forth a knife of his own.

"All right!" Artie cheered. "Now _this _is a rumble!"

But Blaine was relentless. He rushed forward and tried to pull the fighting boys away from each other, not thinking about what he was doing. Puck, not wanting his friend to get hurt, managed to simultaneously pull Blaine out of the way and toss his knife to Mike, who jumped in to take his place.

But there was a reason why Puck had been deemed the Jets' best fighter and not Mike. Within moment, Finn had a hold on Mike and his knife was plunged deep into the other boy's back, dangerously close to his spine.

Blaine managed to break free from Puck's grasp and dashed forward to take the knife from Mike's hand as his friend crumbled to the ground. The adrenaline was pulsing through his veins; he was on a high he hadn't experienced in a long time - the kind of high that one could only get from a rumble such as this. As Mike lay bleeding out beneath them, Blaine managed to avenge his death with one quick plunge of the knife into the Sharks leader's heart.

It had all happened so fast. As Finn fell, suddenly everything seemed to stop. The rest of the gang members looked at their fallen brothers in shock. Blaine, not having realized the full magnitude of his actions, stared down at Finn's lifeless body, trying to catch his breath.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of distant sirens. As if it were instinct, the Sharks and Jets began to clear the scene. They climbed back over the fence and took off running as the sound of the sirens got closer and closer, leaving only the lifeless bodies of Mike and Finn, along with Blaine, whose expression changed to one of horror as he realized what he'd just done.

He sank to his knees beside Finn and buried his face in his hands. The police sirens were now mere white noise to him. Blaine could no longer hear them over the sound of his own sobs.

He looked up at the small bit of sky he could see below the overpass. As usual, there were no stars. Blaine could never see any. A single word fell from his lips as a desperate scream. 

"_Kurt_!"

There was a sudden rattling of the fence. Blaine froze, afraid it was Officer Sylvester - or worse, one of the Sharks returning to avenge Finn's death. His heart rate slowed down significantly when he realized it was just Rachel.

"Blaine! Come on, what are you still doing here?"

He numbly rose to his feet and pulled himself brokenly over the fence just as a police searchlight beamed into the fenced-in area. Once he was on the other side, Rachel took his hand and began pulling him one way. Either she hadn't heard what he'd just screamed, or she didn't care. It didn't matter. Blaine had no time for her.

"_No_," he spat through his tears, angrily pulling his hand away. "Leave me alone." He took off running blindly in the complete opposite direction, without having any idea where to go.

…

Sebastian had taken it upon himself to tell Kurt the news. As soon as he'd made his escape from the scene of the rumble, he'd made a mad dash to the building where most of the Sharks lived, including Kurt and Finn and their family. He barged into the apartment where the Hummel-Hudsons lived, only to find Santana, Quinn and Brittany all lying on the living room floor, painting their nails and flipping through fashion magazines, waiting for their men to get back from the rumble.

"He's on the roof," Quinn said lazily without looking up, stroking her thumbnail with a brush that looked like it had been dipped in dark red blood. "And don't you dare try anything, Sebastian. Otherwise we'll sic Sam, Finn and Rory on you."

Sebastian rolled his eyes and turned around. Somehow the girls had all picked up on his little secret crush on Kurt. They didn't seem to think he was abnormal - after all, Kurt was out to them, and they were all still friends - but they knew about the advances Sebastian had previously tried to make towards their friend, and they didn't like it one bit. Neither did Kurt, for that matter. Kurt had made it very clear to Sebastian that he had no interest whatsoever.

Sebastian hesitated in the doorway for a second. He contemplated turning around to tell them the bad news - that Blaine had killed Finn in the rumble - but decided against it. For whatever reason, something inside him was telling him that Kurt had to know first.

He raced up to the rooftop and threw the door open. Sure enough, Kurt was standing there looking dreamily up at the few stars he could see.

He turned around with an expectant smile. "Blaine?" he asked, and his face fell when he saw who it was. "Sebastian."

Sebastian had absolutely no fucking clue why Kurt would want to see Blaine, but he didn't have time to think about that right now.

"Kurt," he gasped breathlessly. "The rumble."

Kurt looked confused. "What are you talking about? There was no rumble. Blaine was going to go and stop it."

Again with the whole Blaine thing. _Why had Kurt been talking to Blaine so much_? "No, there was," Sebastian continued. "Nobody meant for it to happen. Blaine showed up, and...and he..."

Sebastian found himself unable to continue. His shoulders began shaking with suppressed sobs and he buried his face in his hands. A few seconds later, he felt a pair of gentle hands on his shoulders, trying to hold him still. He forced himself to pick up his face and look at Kurt.

"Sebastian," Kurt said firmly. "What happened?"

"Blainecouldn'." Sebastian thought that by saying it all in one breath, it would be easier.

Kurt stared at him, then started blinking quickly as if he were trying not to cry. "No." He shook his head. "No. No."

"I'm sorry," Sebastian whispered. He turned around slowly towards the door that led back into the apartment building, then broke into a dead sprint as he ran back down the stairs.

As he ran, his fingers closed around the weapon in his pocket. A small handgun, which had been waiting for a moment just like this.

…

Kurt had remained motionless, numb, on the roof for what felt like hours. He didn't know. He didn't care. He could feel absolutely nothing. What are you _supposed _to feel when the man you love kills your own brother?

Eventually he managed to walk back inside in a complete trance. He reached his own apartment and realized that Santana and the girls were no longer here - Sebastian had probably told them the bad news, too, and Santana was undoubtedly upset. Kurt had no time to care about their possible whereabouts. He made his way into his bedroom and collapsed facedown onto the mattress. He buried his face in the sheets and began to cry ugly, noisy sobs without a care in the world who could hear him.

"Please," he begged as he began praying to a God he did not believe in. "Make it not be true. Please make it not be true."

All of a sudden he was keenly aware of the presence of someone else in the room with him. He choked back one more sob and turned around, completley unprepared for the sight he was about to see.

Blaine was standing in his bedroom with his shirt violently torn and falling off his body. Various scars and bruises marred his skin. His hair was an absolute mess. Kurt stared at him for a moment, blinked, then lunged at him.

"Killer!" he screamed, tackling Blaine backwards to the floor and pinning him down. "You killed him! You killed my brother! You..."

Finally his emotions caught up with him, and he couldn't yell anymore. He gasped for a breath and buried his face into Blaine's chest, sobbing violently once again.

"Shhh," Blaine whispered, gently stroking his fingers through Kurt's hair and letting him cry. He sat up from the floor and pulled Kurt up to a sitting position as well so he could wrap his arms around him. "I swear to you, Kurt, I tried to stop it. Oh god, I tried to stop it. I didn't mean to hurt him. I didn't mean to kill him, I promise you. H-he killed Mike, and Mike was like my brother...I know that doesn't make it right, I wasn't thinking when I did it. He didn't mean it, either. Finn didn't mean to kill Mike. I'm so sorry, Kurt. I'm just so, so sorry."

By the time he finished speaking, Blaine was in tears as well. Kurt, with newfound affection, pulled the other boy closer to him and tenderly kissed his forehead. "I believe you," he whispered, because he did.

Kurt's simple words were enough to piece Blaine's shattered heart back together. "Stay with me," he begged. "Please, Kurt. I need you."

"I love you so much," Kurt murmured as he kept stroking his fingers tenderly through Blaine's dark, messy curls. "I love you so, so much."

Blaine gasped out one more shaky sob and looked up at Kurt. "I love you too."

Kurt held him closer. For a while, neither boy said a word. They sat there holding each other in the middle of Kurt's bedroom floor for a very long time before Kurt finally broke the silence.

"We can't live like this," he finally said, his voice solemn. "You and I love each other, Blaine, but the way we're living...it just can't be. We have to go somewhere else. We have to run away."

Blaine drew in a shaky breath. "Okay," he said, nodding. "I want to run away with you. You're right." He reached down for Kurt's hand and interlaced their fingers. "It's the only way for us to be together. And...and I know there's gotta be somewhere out there for us. Somewhere where we truly belong."

Kurt smiled. "I truly believe that out in the world, there _is _a place like that," he said, then stood up and reached his hand out to Blaine. "But if you take my hand right now, I can take you there without either of us having to leave this room."

Blaine, still on the floor, looked up into Kurt's beautiful eyes. Even in the dim light of the room, something about the way Kurt was looking at him told Blaine to trust him. And Blaine did.

He took Kurt's hand and pulled him into a kiss the second he was standing. Without either of them breaking the kiss, they let themselves collapse softly down onto Kurt's bed.

…

Artie had been limping through the streets for quite a while after the rumble. He didn't know what to do with himself anymore. The Jets were no more. How could they be, without Mike? And Artie knew Blaine sure as hell wouldn't be coming back now. The Jets had been his life, and now they were essentially done. There was nothing else to live for.

He headed into a side alley and sank into a sitting position against the cool brick wall of the dilapidated building. He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled - the signal the Jets used to see if any of their own were nearby.

Sure enough, Puck came out of the shadows further down in the same exact alley. He headed over to where Artie was sitting and sat down beside him.

"Hey, man," Puck said. "You okay?"

Artie forced himself to nod. "You seen Blaine?"

Puck shook his head. "Nobody has."

Artie looked down at the ground. "He's not coming back." It was not a question, it was a statement of fact.

"Yeah," Puck answered solemnly.

It was silent for a few seconds before Artie spoke again. "Did you...did you see them? Did you get a look at their faces?"

"Whose faces?" Puck asked in confusion.

"Mike and Finn," Artie said quietly.

Puck sighed. "What's the matter, you scared?" he asked instead of responding to Artie's question.

"Yeah," Artie admitted.

"Stop it," Puck insisted. "Cut it out. You've got _me _scared, okay?"

There was the sudden sound of a police whistle and both boys froze. No doubt it was Officer Sylvester walking her nighttime beat.

Puck stood and reached down to help his crippled friend. "Never let a cop know you're scared," he said, and they took off running, Puck keeping pace with Artie the whole time.

Keeping pace with Artie, however, meant that they didn't get very far before they ran into someone. They stopped abruptly in their tracks and Puck shouted a deluge of curses before they realized who it was.

"Good grief, boys, it's just me," Rachel said, rolling her eyes.

Artie slapped his hand over his rapidly beating heart to keep it from pumping straight through his chest. "Jesus, Rachel, you scared the shit out of us."

"I'm looking for Blaine," she said. "He was kind of a mess after the rumble tonight, and he just ran off when I came back to get him. I have no idea where he's at."

"This isn't good," Puck muttered under his breath. Blaine had never been one to just disappear without telling anyone where he was going.

But Rachel wasn't finished. "I managed to sneak past some of the Sharks on my way here," she said. "Sebastian was saying something about Blaine and Finn's brother. He said, 'I'll kill that bastard if it's the last thing I do.'"

Puck could only stare in horror. "Something tells me he wasn't talking about Finn's brother," Artie said warily.

"See why we have to find him?" Rachel pleaded. "Look, I know you guys don't like having me around, but I-"

Puck held up one hand to shut her up. "This is bigger than that," he said. "We need to find Blaine. He really pulled through for us at the rumble tonight. We need to protect him from Sebastian." He turned to Artie. "Head on over to Schuester's and wait for us there. Nothing personal, kid but that bum leg of yours makes you an easy target, and that's the last thing we need right now."

Artie saluted him. "Gotcha." He limped off.

"I'll take the back alleys," Puck said, turning back to Rachel. "You go find Tina and Mercedes. See if they know anything. Meet us at Schue's in half an hour."

"Okay." Rachel nodded and turned to go, but Puck called out to stop her.

"Hey, Rachel."

She turned around with an expectant smile.

"You done good," he said, smiling sincerely.

Rachel's smile turned to one of elation. "Thanks!" she said gleefully, and ran off to fulfill her duty.

…

Blaine was vaguely aware of the sound of knocking at the bedroom door, but he didn't dare open his eyes. Doing so would pull him out of this beautiful dream he was having - because there was no way he could possibly be here, lying naked in bed with the most beautiful boy he'd ever known, having just given themselves so completely to each other. Was there?

"Kurt?" The voice outside belonged to Santana, and she sounded upset. "Kurt. Please open the door. I need you."

Kurt stirred in his sleep and tightened his arms around Blaine, unconsciously pulling him closer against his bare chest. As much as Blaine loved that, he knew Santana would manage to find a way into the room sooner or later. He picked his head up and gently kissed Kurt's lips.

"Kurt." The other boy slowly lifted his eyes open and smiled when he saw Blaine. Blaine didn't have to say another word before Santana knocked on the door again.

"Why is this locked?" Her voice sounded desperate. "Kurt. _Please_."

"Over too soon," Kurt sighed, and Blaine kissed his lips in agreement.

"What?" Santana called from outside the room.

Kurt hastily pulled away from the kiss. "Nothing!" he called to her. "I'll be out in a minute!"

He turned back to Blaine, who had started to quickly pull his clothes back on. "Do you still want to run away?" he whispered.

"Absolutely," Blaine said. "You go take care of Santana, make sure she's okay. I'll meet you at Schuester's."

Kurt nodded and pushed the window open so Blaine could get away down the fire escape. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Please hurry," Blaine whispered. He turned to give Kurt one last kiss before climbing out the window and down the fire escape.

Kurt, left alone, was suddenly aware of the fact that he was still naked. He felt heat rushing to his face as he quickly pulled on his bathrobe and opened the bedroom door.

Santana, in tears, pushed past him and stepped into the bedroom. She sank down onto the bed, crying quietly to herself for a second, before she opened her eyes and looked around. She looked at the disheveled sheets, Kurt's clothes lying on the floor, the open window.

Kurt saw the realization set into her expression. "All right," he said. "Now you know."

Santana shook her head. "You don't get it." Her voice was still weak with tears. "You'll never get it. He's one of _them_, don't you see, Kurt? He killed your brother. He killed Finn."

"I know," Kurt whispered. He sat down on the bed beside her and pulled her into a hug. "I'm so sorry. I know you loved him."

"No!" She jumped up from the bed, angrily pulling herself away from his embrace. "I _didn't _love him," she admitted through fresh tears. "And that's why I feel so awful that he's gone. He died thinking I loved him."

Kurt blinked. "I-I'm sorry?"

"I'm in love with Brittany," Santana admitted tearfully. "She and I have been...seeing each other. Finn was just a cover-up, and he didn't even know it. I used him. I feel terrible."

She gave up and melted down onto the bed again. Kurt took her in his arms and let her cry. This time, she didn't slip away.

"You love him," she said softly, stating it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Kurt nodded. "I do."

"Then you deserve to know." Santana sniffed back a sob and picked her head up. "Sebastian's got a gun," she said. "He wants revenge, Kurt. He's not going to stop until he kills Blaine."

Kurt froze in place, completely petrified for a moment.

"Blaine's out on the streets," he whispered. "He's on his way to Schuester's Drugstore." He stood up from the bed, not caring that he was still in his robe, and headed for the door. "I need to go. I need to find him before they do."

He stepped out of the bedroom and pulled open the apartment door, only to be greeted by the neighborhood cop, Officer Sylvester, on the other side.

"I need to ask you a couple questions regarding the death of your brother," she said, inviting herself in.

Kurt knew there was no way he could possibly get out of being interrogated by a cop. He shot a helpless glance to Santana, who still stood in the bedroom doorway.

"Santana," he said slowly. "I need you to run down to Schuester's for me and pick up the aspirin I need for my headache."

She nodded, having understood that he meant she was supposed to tell Blaine that Kurt was on his way. "All right."

She headed for the door. None of them knew, in that moment, that her visit to the drugstore would have fatal consequences.

…

Rachel ran into Schuester's drugstore in a breathless panic, Mercedes and Tina in tow. Puck, Artie and the rest of the guys were waiting for her.

"Blaine's here," Artie said without looking up from the comic book he was reading. "He's in the basement. Schuester's got him moving some boxes around or whatever."

Rachel glanced at Will Schuester, who shrugged. "Might as well put him to work, give him a couple extra bucks while he's here. Says he's waiting for someone." He headed for the cellar door. "I'm gonna go check on him, see if he's doing okay. He was pretty shaken when he showed up. I'll be right back."

Rachel breathed a sigh of relief and went to join the other two girls, who had gone to sit at the counter. "Oh, thank god."

The bell above the door jingled again, and everything suddenly fell silent. In stepped Santana, the chick who had been dating Finn Hudson. Everyone stared at her.

"I need to see Schuester," she said flatly. Her voice sounded tired.

"He ain't here," Puck shot back.

"I know he is," she murmured, heading for the cellar door.

Puck stepped in front of the door before she could reach it. He smirked. "Where do you think you're going?"

She tried to shove past him. "I know Schuester is here, okay? Just let me through."

Puck grinned. "You like to play rough, huh? I can play rough."

He grabbed ahold of her and shoved her roughly against the wall. He was about to give her a violent kiss when she managed to shove his face away.

"Stop it!" Her voice was quiet but forceful. It sounded like she'd been crying a lot; she probably couldn't have screamed even if she'd wanted to. "I have a message for Blaine! I know he's here, too."

"What _message_," Puck sneered, "could you possibly have for Blaine? You're in cahoots with Sebastian, I know it."

"No!" Santana shouted to the best of her ability. "I want to help Blaine! Please!"

Mercedes stood up from her stool at the soda counter. "Guys, I think we should let her-"

But none of the boys were listening. Tina took Mercedes's hand and gently pulled her back to a sitting position.

"You don't want to help us," Puck growled. "You're just Finn's dirty whore."

"That's it!" Santana, with a sudden burst of strength, managed to pull herself out of Puck's grasp and away from the wall. She looked around the room at all their hideous faces - all of these boys had sat here and watched what Puck had tried to do to her, and not a single one of them had stopped it. She felt resentment towards all of them bubbling up inside her - even towards Blaine. If it hadn't been for Blaine, after all, Finn would still be alive. She wouldn't have to feel guilty about using him and never getting a chance to tell him the truth.

Well, she was already keeping one truth hidden inside her. One more lie couldn't hurt.

"If you don't want me to deliver my message to Blaine, then maybe you can tell him for me," she hissed. Little did she know, at that moment, that Blaine and Schuester were frozen in place on their way back up the stairs from the cellar, having heard the ruckus, listening to every word.

"Tell Blaine that Sebastian found out about their little secret," she said shakily. "He killed him. Sebastian shot Kurt right through the heart."

The faces of every single Jet were set to shocked. Santana numbly turned around and headed out the door, letting the bell jingle behind her as it closed. She didn't even bother to see how any of them reacted to her lie.

…

The second he heard the news, every single nerve ending in Blaine's body went numb. He gripped the railing of the cellar stairs so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He started shaking.

"Blaine?" he heard Schuester ask, but his voice sounded distant. "Are you okay?"

Blaine didn't answer. He sprinted up the rest of the stairs and burst through the door into the main part of the store.

"Santana said to tell you that Kurt's dead," Artie called out as Blaine shoved his way through the store, pushing tables and chairs out of the way. The main door fell shut behind him and the little bell shook with a jingling noise.

"Sebastian!" he called out, running breathlessly through the streets without any idea where he was going. "Come and get me too, Sebastian!" He ran blindly down a back alley that emptied out into a vacant lot. He collapsed in tears against the side of the building. "Come and get me too!"

He was completely broken. His heart felt like it had been ripped straight out of his chest. Kurt was gone. Forever. Blaine forced himself to think the words, but he didn't want to believe it was true. _Couldn't _believe it was true. Could. Not. Believe. It. Blaine would never see his smile again. Never kiss those soft lips again. Never hold him in his arms. Never hear his breathtaking voice.

"Come get me, Sebastian!" he shouted once again in anguish.

There was a sudden voice, and a figure stepped out of the alleyway through which Blaine had run just moments before. "Blaine?"

The voice was one that had never been particularly memorable to him. He looked up and frowned in disgust when he saw that it was Rachel.

"Get out of here," he muttered.

She reached out and gently took his hand. "Look, maybe if you and me just-"

"I said, get _out _of here!" he screamed, yanking his hand roughly away from his. Rachel scurried back down the alleyway; Blaine took a few steps forward out into the open space. He threw his arms above his head. "Sebastian! I'm right here! I'm waiting for you, I want you to! Please!"

He brought his arms down and clenched his fingers in his hair, curling them into tight fists. He let out one more scream of desperation and squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, he saw a figure in the distance on the other side of the vacant lot.

"Kurt?" he called out cautiously, even though he knew it couldn't be. His mind was playing tricks on him. He was hallucinating.

But then the figure called back to him. "Blaine!"

Blaine broke off running. Sure enough, it _was _Kurt. He was smiling and had his arms out towards Blaine, ready to embrace him.

Neither of them saw the other figure lurking in the shadows of the alley. Sebastian watched the two lovers run towards each other. He raised his gun. Ready, aim, fire.

The gunshot rang out through the otherwise relatively quiet summer night. Blaine stumbled, as if he had tripped, and landed right in Kurt's open arms. Kurt caught him and was about to ask if he was okay, but then he saw the blood.

Blaine began to falter to the ground as the life seeped out of his body. Kurt cradled him in his arms and knelt with Blaine gripping the front of his shirt, as if he were holding onto Kurt for his life - literally.

Neither of them noticed the rest of the Sharks and Jets filtering into the alley, having raced to the scene when they heard the gunshot. The only place they could look was into each other's eyes.

"I didn't believe hard enough," Blaine stammered.

"Long is enough," Kurt whispered. It killed him to literally watch the life leave his lover's eyes like this, but he forced himself to hold on and not cry. He had to stay strong for Blaine.

"Not here." Blaine's voice was shaky. "They won't let us be."

"Then we'll run away," Kurt reassured him, gently stroking his dark curls.

"Yes we can. We will." Blaine shivered in Kurt's arms, and Kurt pressed him closer as his lover spoke one last time.

"I love you, Kurt." Blaine's voice was weak, barely audible. Kurt could feel Blaine's heart beating against his own through his chest, slowing down. He gasped out a loud sob when he felt Blaine's heart beat for the last time.

He still refused to cry. Not here. Not in front of all of them. He lowered Blaine's now-lifeless body to the ground and let his fingers ghost lightly over his lips.

Kurt stood up and forced himself to look at all of them. They were all too shocked to really figure out what was going on. Kurt knew they had to be extremely confused, wondering exactly what kind of relationship Kurt and Blaine had had, but he knew none of them had the guts to speak up and ask. Not now.

He walked to Sebastian and held out his hand. Without saying a word, Sebastian handed him the gun.

"All of you," Kurt said slowly, letting the gun dangle from his fingertip. "You all killed him. And my brother, and Mike. Not with bullets or guns, but with hate."

He raised the gun and pointed it with both hands straight at Sebastian, who immediately drew back.

"Well now I can kill, too," Kurt continued emotionlessly. "Because now I have hate."

He held the gun out for a second, then began to tremble. The weapon clattered to the ground as Kurt realized he just couldn't do this anymore.

He raced back to Blaine's lifeless body, tears blurring his vision, and sank to his knees.

They were all watching him. Every single one of them, waiting to see what he would do next. Kurt met each individual gaze, Jet and Shark alike, daring them to stop him. Nobody did.

He leaned down and kissed Blaine's lips one last time. A near-collective gasp went up from within the group, but none of them said anything. Kurt let a single tear fall down his face and land on Blaine's cold cheek before he finally pulled away.

"I love you, Blaine," he whispered.

Puck and Artie stepped forward; so did Rory and Sam. The four boys lifted up Blaine's lifeless body like pallbearers and began to carry him away, as if it were a funeral procession. Kurt fell into step behind them. He blinked his wet eyes, then forced himself to hold his head high. He'd just made himself known to every single Jet and every single Shark, and none of them had said a word. Granted, they were probably in too much shock, but Kurt couldn't help but feel proud. He didn't have to hide anymore.

He only hoped Blaine would be proud, too.

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